


Two Demons walk into a bar

by deliciously_devient



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Demon!Hanzo, Demons, M/M, demon!mccree, dilfosaur's two demon au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-12-05 03:43:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11569590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciously_devient/pseuds/deliciously_devient
Summary: As a general rule, McCree didn't fuck with other demons.Hanzo breaks all of his rules.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> based on dilfosaur's 2 demons au!

As a general rule, McCree didn’t get involved with other demons, either romantically or platonically. He found most of them were incredibly selfish, and would use you just like they would use a human, or attempt to kill you for being in their “territory”.

 

He doesn’t remember  _ when,  _ exactly he became a demon; when he’d gotten picked up by Reyes and Blackwatch, he’d been a fifty year old demon in a teenagers body, rambling from town to town, trying to find a place for him to fit in. He hadn’t been raised in demon culture, or if he had, he didn’t remember. He’d opened his eyes one morning, in a burnt out shell of a building, naked and  _ hungry,  _ and he’d been wandering ever since.

 

Blackwatch had given him a better grasp of his powers than Deadlock ever had; he learned the limits of his body, the near-indestructibility of himself, the ability to shoot the soul right out of a man. He only had to look a man in the eye, and he was a dead man.

 

But back to the point. McCree made it a point to avoid other demons; ones that remembered their childhood were pushy, territorial, and generally too much trouble to deal with. So when he felt an immediate attraction to Hanzo Shimada, and his curved horns, blue skin, and white, white eyes. He was flaunting his looks, unrepentant, staring the human members down with his too-white eyes.

 

He had joined the recalled Overwatch at his brother’s behest, but even Genji seemed intimidated by his appearance.

 

When  McCree got close enough to catch scent of the other demon, oh. He smelled faintly of sulphur, but mostly of just-bloomed cherry blossoms, and the sweet scent of sake, and it was a smell that drew McCree in like a moth to the flame.

 

Without even realizing he was doing it, McCree followed Hanzo at a distance after the introductions were made and the other members of the recalled Overwatch had dispersed. His head was filled with Hanzo’s sweet scent, his teeth heavy in his mouth and focused entirely on getting closer.

 

He was so intent on his goal that he didn’t realize Hanzo had doubled back on him until he was being slammed into a wall, breath knocked out of him. It was enough force to wind a human, maybe bruise a little, but nowhere near the force needed to hurt Jesse. He noted that in the back of his mind, eyes flicking up to stare into Hanzo’s snarling face. He thought vaguely that he had never seen someone more beautiful.

 

“Why are you following me? Are you not afraid of me?” Hanzo snarled, and though sharp claws were inches from his throat, and there was the very real possibility that Hanzo could do real damage to him, McCree could only be aroused.

 

A slow, sugary grin spread across his face as he licked his lips. He noted that Hanzo was slightly shorter than him, but was also seeming to tower over him.

 

“Of course not, darlin’,” he drawled, letting the blackness of his demonic power slide over his eyes, and when he spoke next, it was with the two-toned voice most people only heard before dying. “In fact, I think you and I ain’t too different.”

 

Hanzo’s face went slack in shock, for a moment, before his face drew up in a sneer. “I am  _ nothing  _ like you.”

 

“You’re a damn sight prettier than I am, that’s for sure,” McCree purred, and that seemed to rock Hanzo’s veneer of disgust, shock once against crossing his face. The blue of his cheeks darkened slightly, a blush, and his grip slackened slightly.

 

McCree wasn’t a man to miss opportunities, and he switched their positions, slamming Hanzo up against the concrete wall instead, being a mite gentler with the smaller demon than he had been with Jesse. He insinuated a thigh between Hanzo’s, ducking down to run his nose along the demon’s pulse point, inhaling more of that sticky-sweet scent and shuddering.

 

“I ain’t ever met another demon that smelled as good as you,” McCree growled, feeling his teeth sharpen in his mouth, his shoulders stretching out his shirt too far as he lost his grip on himself. “God, I  _ want  _ you,” he groaned, licking across that pulsepoint, feeling Hanzo’s heart hammering against it frantically.

 

“God does not exist,” Hanzo sneered, his voice high and tight as he spread his legs slightly, allowing McCree further into his space. He made a soft, pitched noise when McCree’s teeth closed over his jugular, the sharp points pricking tough, impossibly soft skin, not enough to pierce but just enough to leave the skin reddened.

 

“Maybe not,” McCree said softly as he kissed up Hanzo’s throat and jaw, his lips inches from the other demon’s as he looked into those glowing eyes. “But I sure have found heaven today,” he murmured, before taking Hanzo’s mouth in a kiss, fangs clacking together almost painfully. A long, mobile tongue swirled against his, and Hanzo finally seemed to remember that he had hands, grabbing fistfulls of McCree’s ass to bring their groins closer together.

 

McCree found himself groaning, grinding into Hanzo’s heat, the taste and smell and feel of him nearly overwhelming. He was close to coming in his pants like a fucking teenager, for Chrissake.

 

His world tilted, and he found himself being slammed into a hard surface again -the ground- this time with enough force to really hurt, his ribs creaking in protest as a booted foot pressed down on his chest. He stared up at Hanzo dumbly, still hard in his pants, his mind still on cloud nine from all the kissing.

 

“You have not proved yourself, to be allowed to touch me so,” Hanzo snarled, though he was still visibly flushed. He turned on heel, vanishing around a corner, and McCree felt himself grinning.

  
“Oh  _ darlin’, _ ” he sighed, hand over his heart. “This’ll be fun.”


	2. Chapter 2

While Jesse had cultivated a thin veneer of impatience and impetuousness to go with his wild west facade, he could be incredibly patient. So he waited, letting Hanzo settle in with the rest of the team, getting comfortable enough to laugh and joke around with the rest of the team.

 

Part of him wanted to ask Genji what his brother liked in terms of gift, if Courting in Japan worked different than in the rest of the world, but if he knew anything about his Blackwatch friend, it was the ninja had a big mouth and would likely foil Jesse’s surprise before it really got off the ground.

 

So Jesse waited, patient, letting Hanzo get comfortable with the team before he struck.

 

Traditionally, the first gift in a Courting was supposed to be one of life, and from what Jesse could tell, most demons would hunt down an enemy of their intended and present them with the joy of snuffing them out. Jesse certainly thought Hanzo might appreciate that, but there was always the chance that such a gift would wound his pride, and make the prickly demon reject Jesse’s offer.

 

Some three months went by before Jesse was able to get his hands on his gift, and when he did, he almost lost his other arm trying to wrangle the damn thing. As it happened, he found out he would unable to present his gift in person; he and several others who had just returned were being shipped out again on emergency, to deal with a particularly bad omnic strike in Siberia.

 

Carefully wrapping his gift in a box with plenty of ventilation, Jesse left it outside Hanzo’s door, with a quickly scrawled note before shuffling off to the drop ship. He hoped the mission would be quick; not knowing if his affections were accepted or rejected would be...distracting.

 

***

Hanzo was mentally exhausted, having just returned from Egypt with Ana and Soldier 76, his body aching from having to hold a human appearance for so long. With glee, he shed the illusion and sighed as his shoulders became slightly broader, the ache in them receding.

 

He stopped short in front of his room, looking down at the blue box that was nestled against his door. On top was a note, and a faint snuffling noise could be heard from inside. Frowning, he picked up the note first, noting that it smelled faintly of the cowboy.

 

_ Hanzo, _

_ I know it’s been awhile since I brought up how much I like you, so I figured this’d be a reminder. For your pleasure, I gift you Life, that you may do with it what you see fit. _

 

_ Jesse _

 

Hanzo felt his cheeks heating as he read the note, remembering the searing kiss that had made his soul sing. He had initially rejected McCree’s advance because he was an unknown quantity, and unworthy partner, but since working with the other demon, he’d begun to think he’d made a mistake. Jesse was kind, considerate, and a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, a whirl of bullets and rage applied at each enemy's weak points.

 

To know that such a man intended to formally Court him...it made his stomach flutter in interesting ways, at least.

 

Curious, he picked up the box, a faint, displease squeak meeting his ears, and he wondered what it could be. Something so small couldn’t possibly be an enemy, so it must be a pet or delicacy of some sort. He entered his room, closing the door firmly in case whatever it was decided to try to escape, and carefully opening the lid.

 

He gasped, his hand going to his mouth as he stared down at the creature, and the creature glared up balefully from its blanket nest at him. Iridescent blue, whiskers twitching as it assessed him, the small dragon chittered at him and then snorting, curling in on itself, apparently deciding he was not a threat.

 

Logically, Hanzo knew that it was not a dragon; the true dragons had died out centuries ago, and this was likely one of the many wyverns that had descended from them. Slowly, he reached out his hand to touch the small, long creature, revelling in how warm it was, and picking it up when it allowed him to.

 

“Hello there,” he said gently, holding the creature close to his chest, petting the soft fur on top of its head. It made a pleased noise, and dug its claws into his shirt, clinging and chittering. “You’re gorgeous, yes, so beautiful. Where did McCree find you, hmm? It had to have been in Asia somewhere,” he murmured gently, scratching the wyvern’s chin and giggling when it grumbled when he drew his fingers away. It nipped at his fingers, gently, encouraging him to continue his ministrations.

 

He spent long moments simply holding the creature, allowing it to become acclimated to him. It found a perch on his shoulder, snuffling into his neck, and Hanzo decided that anyone willing to scour the world just to find so rare a gift was someone he would consider mating with.

 

It didn’t hurt that McCree was easy on the eyes.

 

***

The next day, Hanzo found Genji meditating with Zenyatta in their usual spot overlooking the ocean, and joined them in silent contemplation for long minutes. His dragon -he was considering naming it Udon, with how noodle-like it was- was wrapped around his neck, nose buried in his kyodo-gi to ward off the morning chill.

 

The sound of the ocean was gentle, calming, and the presence of his brother warmed something in his chest. Hanzo found himself falling easily into meditation, the quiet of his own brother and whir of Zenyatta’s inner gears putting him at ease.

 

“Oh? Who is this?” the quiet, amused voice of Zenyatta said softly, and Hanzo opened his eyes, not realizing that he had closed them. His dragon had left him, apparently growing tired of his stillness, and was inquisitively sticking his nose in the omnic’s face.

 

“I have not named him yet,” Hanzo said softly, smiling. “He was a Courting gift, from McCree.”

 

Genji tilted his head in confusion, looking from Hanzo to the dragon now demanding chin scratches from Zenyatta. “A  _ Courting  _ gift?? McCree is an oni??”

 

Hanzo frowned. “He never told you? Were you not close friends?”

 

“Not close enough, apparently,” Genji says lightly, but there is an undercurrent of hurt to his voice. “He intends to Court you formally, then?”

 

“It would appear so,” Hanzo said, a quiet, soft smile overcoming his face as he watched Zenyatta manipulate one of his orbs for his dragon to chase.

 

“Why brother, it seems as though you intend to  _ let  _ him,” Genji teased, and there was a smile in his voice.

 

“I do,” he murmured, meeting his brother’s gaze. “McCree….is a good man. A worthy mate.”

 

Genji’s scandalized gasp is joyful, and he claps his hands together in delight. “One of my best friends and my brother! Excellent!”

 

Hanzo felt warmth spreading through his chest at his brother’s approval, and he felt a genuine smile twist his lips upward. The muscles were still unused to such a gesture, but he found himself reveling in the ache.

 

“I find myself wondering what I should get him in return, to let him know I am accepting his Courting,” Hanzo confessed. “I...am not sure what is appropriate.”

 

“Give him one of your scarves,” Genji says immediately, and Hanzo narrows his eyes in suspicious, watching Genji’s grin spread across his face.

“I have noticed him gaze at your hair often, with the same look he would get in his eyes before charming someone into his bed,” Genji offers, smile widening when Hanzo bares his fangs at the thought of McCree laying with others. “Particularly the golden one.”

 

“Hn,” Hanzo said, considering.

 

**

Several nights later, bone tired and full of slow-healing bullet wounds, McCree returned to see a golden scarf hanging over his doorknob with a note attached.

 

_ Your first gift was adequate. You may continue. _

  
  
  



End file.
